


What the Bookworm saw

by Kendas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22630657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendas/pseuds/Kendas
Summary: Prompt: FireworksSummary: She’d never imagined the sight of two men would be so erotic before.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	What the Bookworm saw

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, sadly this all still belongs to J.K.Rowling. I still haven't got that castle in Scotland or that fabulous bank account which would allow me to go and raid Waterstones.  
**A.N:** Not new, just uploading old stories from my livejournal

**What the Bookworm Saw**

**The First Time**

**The** first time she’d seen them together had been at the big Halloween ball, which had been held at Hogwarts at the one-year anniversary of Voldemort’s downfall.

Hermione had sneaked off away from the crowds of people watching the fireworks explode and sparkle overhead. She didn’t like crowds anymore. They reminded her too much of the final battle.

She sneaked down to the edge of the lake and watched the reflections of the lights as they played on the water’s surface.

She’d been completely oblivious to their presence and they to hers. It had only been the moan, whispered on the breeze from a nearby willow tree, which had caused her to look. And once she had looked it was impossible to turn away.

Hermione had never imagined that the sight of two men would be erotic. But now she was fascinated, slipping into the shadows as she watched her pale skinned nemesis slide his mouth down the beautifully dark skin of his lover. Silently gasping as Zabini arched his back when Malfoy swallowed his erection deep inside his mouth. 

Flickering lights from the display played on the two men’s skin through the canopy of willow leaves. They were like some beautiful piece of installation art. Hermione couldn’t get enough.

Flashes of red and green danced over them as they rubbed, slid, thrust and moaned. 

Hermione bit down on her lip as Malfoy rose up onto his knees, pulling his lover’s hips up into his lap, tilting his own, one hand on Zabini’s hip, the other around his erection as he pushed himself inside.

As Fred and George’s show stopper Chinese Fireball erupted above them, Hermione watched both men fall shaking into their release. 

She’d never imagined the sight of two men would be so erotic before.

~*~

**The Second Time**

**The** second time that she'd seen them had been in the library, late one night.

Hermione did not sleep well anymore; too many nightmares plagued her rest, too many images of friends who had died during the war, faces she had watched as they drew their last breath. She could no longer remember the last time she had slept straight through until morning. No, that was a lie, she could. It had been the day after the final battle, after Ron had carried her bleeding body up to the Hospital Wing. He'd been limping himself from a nasty curse to his leg, but he wouldn't trust the task of caring for her to anyone else.

Madam Pomfrey had healed her and then cast her a sympathetic look. She drew the curtains around her bed before pressing a vial of a clouded blue potion, Dreamless Sleep, into Hermione's hand. She had slept blissfully that night, but it had also been the last time. Pomfrey did not give out Dreamless Sleep willy-nilly; it was too addictive and the risks were too high. So Hermione had been left with her nightmares and insomnia.

This particular night, she had stolen out of Gryffindor Tower at close to three in the morning, too tired of tossing and turning in her bed and ready to seek the sanctuary of the library.

On nights like this, sneaking through the corridors of Hogwarts, Hermione often found her thoughts turning to Harry and all the things she had gotten up to over the years with him and Ron. But Harry was gone. No one had seen him since the morning after the final battle.

Hermione remembered clearly the day that he had left and the last time she had seen him.

She had awoken that day, fully refreshed, her eyes still bleary after a sound nights’ sleep thanks to the heavenly little blue vial of Pomfrey's, to see Harry standing beside her bed watching her. He had leant down and pressed his lips softly against her forehead, his left hand stroking sleep tousled hair back of her face.

"It's all over, Hermione. My part in this is finished. It's up to the rest of them now. They can sort it out."

"Harry?" she had questioned, rather confused by his behaviour.

"I have to go. I... I can't stay here at the moment. I need some time. Need to sort myself out. Explain to Ginny for me, will you? I'll be in touch, I promise."

"Harry?" Hermione had said again, sitting up in her bed.

"I'm sorry! Take care." With that he disappeared around the corner and had vanished from the wizarding world. So far, no one had heard from him, but Hermione knew he would keep his promise, they just needed to wait until he was ready; that was all.

Hermione reached the library and slipped inside, moving quietly, but swiftly, into the restricted section. No one bothered to stop or refuse her entry to it, even in the day. She was of age and had seen more and done more during the war than many of the books it contained. Still, she sought it out as a place of solitude and comfort.

It had been as she moved through the stacks, her fingers drifting absently over the ancient spines, caressing the worn leathers, that she had seen them. Their arms around each other as they kissed frenziedly. Malfoy's shirt was undone, pale chest just visible, his trousers open and Hermione could see Zabini's hand moving up and down inside the placket. They were just as beautiful as the first time she had seen them.

Mouths battling each other; both fighting for dominance. One moment Malfoy was pressed back into the shelves, the next it was Zabini, Malfoy pushing the black boy off him and slamming him into the books to resume their embrace. Hermione wondered how she hadn't heard them.

It was different to the first time she had seen them. That time they had been slower, gentler, sensual, it had seemed more like making love, but regardless it had still looked just as desperate. There was so much emotion between the two.

Hermione watched, mesmerised, as Zabini growled, pushing the blond boy hard and sending him back into the opposite stack. She watched as his fingers fastened onto Malfoy’s hip and shoulder, spinning him around so that his face was pushed into the spines of the books.

She stared as he tore the black slacks, which until then had still been clinging, perilously close to falling off, from the pale hips pinned beneath him.

As Zabini muttered a spell of some kind, Hermione lifted the hem of her skirt and stroked her fingers across her dampening panties. She still couldn’t get over how erotic the two were together. Part of her thought that it was only watching these two that could do this to her, create that deep, wanting tingling low in her belly. They were beautiful, even angry like this.

She watched as Zabini whispered something into Malfoy’s ear. Saw the flash of grey eyes and the Malfoy heir move to push his lover away. Zabini, slammed him back hard against the shelf, hissing, _‘Not now. Need you,’_ into the almost silvery skin of his neck.

When Zabini pushed himself inside Malfoy’s arse, Hermione slipped her own fingers under the elastic of her pants, pushing them inside herself quickly. 

Her fingers kept a pace with the two boy’s thrusts. She could hear a shallow whimpering coming from Malfoy as his lover pound into him with every deep, hard flex of his hips, his one hand rapped around Malfoy’s cock, the other visibly digging into the skin on his hip. Distantly she found herself amused at the thought that such a sound could come from the arrogant git who had tormented her since the day they met and her heritage had been revealed.

Zabini came with a guttural cry, biting down on Malfoy’s shoulder as he shuddered with his release. As the blond started to shudder beneath him, Hermione spared a thought for the books he was surely emptying his come over, but then her release hit her and she realized that right then, she really didn’t care.

When she finally crawled back into her bed, later that night, her last thought was of the two gorgeous men whom she’d watched once again as they fucked each other. For the first time since the war, Hermione fell asleep and did not dream of dead people.

~*~

**The Third Time**

**The** third time that Hermione had seen Zabini and Malfoy, she had gone looking for them.

The day that she followed the two Slytherins from the great hall, it was almost three months to the day since the incident in the library. After that time and those wonderful few hours sleep that Hermione had been granted, she had taken to replaying her memories of the two men quite regularly. Just like that night in the library, her hands would slip below the waist band of her pyjama bottoms; her small fingers would slide across her folds, circle her clit a few times and then dip inside as she brought herself off. Those were the nights when she actually managed to sleep. They were the only nights she slept.

Hermione had watched them all through dinner. Ron and Ginny had been talking to her, something about Harry’s absence, but her mind was elsewhere; focused on the strong chocolate hand curled around a fork across the hall from her; focussed on the pink tongue licking the juice from the pear which pale pink lips had been eating moments earlier.

Hermione knew that they were becoming an obsession for her. Perhaps that should have worried her, should have made her realize that she should stop, but she was not able to help herself. They were too beautiful together, too erotic. She knew she had to see them together at least once more before they all left Hogwarts for the last time.

Hermione’s eyes widened as the pair both stood from their table and discreetly slipped from the hall. Had she not been watching them so closely, Hermione was certain she would have missed their departure. She was sure that a spell must have been involved for them to be so flawlessly inconspicuous.

Hermione made her excuses to her friends and then quickly left herself. She just caught the flare of black robes as her quarries turned a corner and slipped out of the main entrance.

She followed them all the way to the Quidditch Pitch, and, upon her realization of where they were heading, her heart sank. Still, not able to resist a possible peek at their naked bodies once more, when they both entered the Slytherin changing rooms, Hermione followed.

She was soon glad that she had.

As soon as she’d slipped into a hiding place, wedged between two rows of lockers, Malfoy dived on Zabini. Dark hands threaded through pale blonde hair as their lips meshed together. It was heated, not as tender as the first time she had seen them, nor as angry as the second. The kiss was needy. She could see their tongues slipping from one mouth to the other, stroking against each other, swiping over the other’s lips. More than once she saw one bite down gently on the other’s lip, pulling at it playfully before sucking it inside their mouth.

Clothes were quickly shed and soon Zabini was on his back lying on one of the benches, Malfoy straddling his hips while he laved and nipped at his lover’s pronounced nipples.

“What are you waiting for, Draco. Fuck me.”

“Not here,” the blonde said, smirking and standing up. He grabbled one of Zabini’s hands and pulled him to his feet. “Showers!” he commanded, backing Zabini up into the adjacent tiled room. “Want you wet and slippery as a Knockturn Alley whore.”

Hermione heard the showers turn on. She heard the sound of a dollop of shower cream hitting wet flesh. She heard Malfoy’s dirty words to Zabini, and his in return. She heard sighs and whimpers, expletives and words of love. She heard a great deal, but she could not see a damned thing.

She had to move. She had to see them. So she inched her way around the locker, stopping dead at the sight that greeted her.

Malfoy was on his knees in front of Zabini, his head bobbing up and down. They were both gloriously naked and water was cascading over their skin. It was the clearest she had ever seen them. That night by the lake they had been in the shadows: in the library the lighting had been dim, but here everything was wonderfully bright. She could even see the birthmark that rested on Malfoy’s lower back. Zabini’s head was thrown back, his hand fisted in Malfoy’s hair, encouraging him.

Hermione’s mouth went dry and for the first time since she had seen them under the willow tree, she could not withhold her groan. All she wanted was to be sandwiched between their two lean bodies while they did wicked things to her.

Zabini’s head suddenly dropped down and his eyes opened.

Hermione felt her blood run cold.

He smirked at her, stilling Malfoy’s movements.

She had been caught! She could not believe it. She had always been so careful.

“We have an audience, Draco,” Zabini said, grinning at her, it what could only be called predatorily. “You like to watch, don’t you love? It’s much more fun to join in, you know.”

Draco turned, his tongue running over his lips. “Granger,” he greeted. “Couldn’t resist one last peek, eh.”

“I’m afraid you’ve worn out your welcome. We don’t intend to let you watch us this time. So, you either leave now, little Gryffindor, or you get your pert little ass in here.”

For a brief moment Hermione considered the first option, but she knew that she would always regret it if she accepted Zabini’s proffered get out of jail free card.

“Malfoy?” she questioned, unsure if it was what he too wanted.

“Merlin, Granger, if you’re joining us, hurry up. We’re not going to wait around all day.”

It was all she needed. She took two steps forward, her hands rising to toy with the buttons of her shirt, nervous about what the two beautiful boys would think of her plain body. But Zabini halted her.

“Wait! Keep your clothes on.” He pulled his wand from behind his ear and pointed it at her casting silently.

Hermione felt her bra and pants disappear. 

“Draco’s had this fantasy about seeing your pink little nipples, rock hard and poking through a wet school shirt for years.”

Hermione opened her mouth, then closed it, raising her chin slightly and moving forward confidently.

Before she had even gotten close enough to feel the heat from the waters spray, two hands had shot out and yanked her towards the two objects of her desire.

Zabini had kissed her first, his full-lipped mouth hot and demanding but surprisingly gentle. When he had finished he spun her around to allow Malfoy his turn.

Malfoy’s lips weren’t quite as full as Blaise’s. He nipped more, taking pleasure in hearing the whimpers his light bites would elicit.

“Wanted this for months,” Malfoy groaned, his mouth latching on to her left ear lobe, while Blaise suckled the skin on the right side of her neck, his large hands reaching around to cup and fondle her breasts through the wet material of her shirt. “Wanted to take you that night in the library when Blaise saw you watching, but he made me wait. Bloody hell, Granger! So glad you followed us. I wasn’t sure you would take the bait.”

Hermione was not really taking in Malfoy’s revelations; her mind was reeling from the sensations, which the two men were creating. They were perfect. It was so much more than she had imagined.

Malfoy lifted her skirt, his hands, soapy hands, Hermione realised, slid up her thighs, digging into the skin on either side just below the juncture where they met.

The two pairs of hands were all over her, caressing, stroking, sipping inside, curling, it was a heady feeling and Hermione let her head fall back against Zabini’s shoulder while Malfoy’s mouth closed around her, still shirt covered, nipple.

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted up into Malfoy’s arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. Zabini was gone from behind her and instead her back was pressed flush against the cool tiles of the shower, they were a stark contrast to the warm lean body in front of her and the soothing hot water running over them both.

She heard one of the boys cast a contraception charm and then a second spell that she recognized from the library. 

“Granger,” Malfoy moaned, his cock pressed against her folds. “Have you done this before?”

“Done what?” she answered, not certain if he just meant sex or two men, she’d heard the rumours about the Golden Trio too, false though they were.

“Shagged.”

“Yes,” she answered.

Malfoy nodded, then thrust inside her. He caught her eye and kissed her, not making any attempt to move where he was buried deep inside her.

Hermione realized why, when she opened her eyes to see Zabini behind him, attention focused down on Malfoy’s arse as he pushed himself inside it. She watched his face as he did so, marvelling at the expressions which passed over it. When he finally seemed to relax, his chest flush against Malfoy’s back, he looked up at her and winked. Then they were moving, all three of them together, a writhing mass. It was wonderful. 

Zabini’s hand slid in between them, down to where her and Malfoy were joined and stroking her clit, pushing her closer to the edge.

“Gonna fuck your tits later, love. Going to tie Malfoy up and make him watch us,” Zabini rasped.

The salacious comment and the images that accompanied were too much. Hermione came first, the tightening of her walls pushing Malfoy over the edge, and his subsequent shuddering dragging Zabini over with them. The fell in a heap of tangled limbs to the floor, and Hermione distantly worried how she might explain away her wet school uniform when she returned to Gryffindor Tower. But then someone was nuzzling her neck and she was falling asleep, lulled into that lovely sleep that only these two men could provide her.

Hermione wondered, as she dozed off in their arms, if they weren’t just every bit as addictive and dangerous as the Dreamless Sleep potion that Madam Pomfrey withheld so often.

She hoped she could keep them at least for a while; only so she could sleep though, of course.

_Finis_

~*~

**A.N.** Thanks to _Freetheelves2_ for the speedy beta.

This was a birthday present for my friend, _elektrik_storm_ and was a continuation of a drabble I wrote for _Jaimieling._


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